Monday, October 26, 2009

Letter From My Mother

Recently my computer died. This was bad for a lot of reasons, but the one thing I was particularly scared of was losing some files that contained writing by now-deceased mother. The good people at the Apple Store saved them, and I was re-reading some of them just now. I felt like sharing.

April 15, 2000
10:34 pm

Dear Andrew,

Your father and I went to the symphony this past Saturday.

We started with dinner at Joe's Inn. We got a table right away, amazingly enough. We usually have to wait at least 20 minutes. The waitress was very slow arriving at our table, however. So slow that one of the managers came over and took our drink order. After we had had our drinks for what seemed a lengthy period of time, the waitress came over and thanked us for being patient with her. We placed our order - I substituted a baked potato for the rice.
We waited for another lengthy period of time. Someone other than the waitress eventually brought us our food - minus the baked potato. He said that it was not on the order, but he brought me one. We were eating when the waitress showed up to refill our drinks. She poured water into your father's iced tea. When he pointed out the
error, she apologized and went to get him another glass of tea. Awhile later, when we were close to finishing the meal, she returned to box up the rest of your father's food. She dropped his fork on the floor, picked it up and continued to use it to shovel his leftover food into the box. When he pointed out that she had just dropped the fork on the floor and shouldn't use it for that, she stopped - apologized and put the fork in the middle of the food on my plate which I had not finished eating.
We left the restaurant, and I’m pleased to say that we have not contracted any diseases as of yet.

I had not really wanted to go to the symphony, but thought that hearing Beethoven's 7th symphony performed live would be worth the effort. When we took our seats and opened our programs, we discovered that the we would not be hearing the 7th. Instead, the Egmont, the 3rd piano concerto and the 6th symphony would be played. The 7th was played earlier this month.
The lights dimmed. The concertmaster came out to warm everyone up. We clapped for him. The orchestra warmed up. The conductor came out and we clapped for him. Have you noticed how we clap for people when they haven't done anything yet?
Finally, we heard the Egmont. Familiar and not too bad. Short.

Then the piano concerto. We clapped for a new person who had not done anything. Concertgoers have great faith in the performers.
The first movement began. Not too bad but fairly long.
Fanny fatigue was starting to settle in. I noticed that the pianist played with only one hand fairly often. It seems that they did not dock his pay for this. I noticed that the other orchestra members consistently played with two hands.
The first movement went on for quite some time and finally ended fairly loudly. I hoped that it was the end of the entire
concerto. Not so. The orchestra took a little break so that the pianist could mop his face with his handkerchief while the conductor stared at him . At this point the audience did not clap. Apparently the protocol is to clap for people before they start playing and when they finish playing, but not during the breaks in the middle. This is different from your school concerts that we used to attend. There the 14 parents in audience used to applaud anytime the performers drew breath. They regarded it as their parental responsibility to provide applause at every opportunity.

The second movement was slow, dreary, boring and interminable. I do believe Beethoven was on sedatives when he wrote it.
Then there was the 3rd movement. I have noticed that Beethoven is fond of the fast, slow, fast pattern. The third movement might not have been so bad if I hadn't just had to sit through the second.
At last it was over. I could not have been more relieved. The audience seemed thrilled with Beethoven, the pianist and the orchestra. They clapped at length. Many people stood up. One woman leaned over the front row of the balcony waving her arms. After about four curtain calls, they brought the lights back up. It was intermission.

I picked up my coat and umbrella and told your father I really needed to leave. He was disappointed to not to hear the 6th. I was disappointed that they had not played the 6th first. I'm sure I would have enjoyed it more. On the other hand, Beethoven's notes about each movement of the 6th symphony in the program went like this -

The Awakening of cheerful Feelings at the Arrival in the country
Scene at the Brook
Merry Gathering of the Peasants
Storm
Shepherd's Song: Joyful Thankful Feelings after the Storm

It is a good thing Beethoven wrote music and not poetry. It would also help if he would stay away from the sedatives.

I think that all in all the orchestra is to be commended. At least no one threw up on stage. This happened during the concert at the last PTA program at my school. A girl in the front row threw up all over the floor. The chorus kept right on singing while a teacher hustled her off the stage and the custodian came up with the mop to clean it up.
Also, none of the performers threw instruments across the stage. Remember when you played the chimes at the PTA meeting in elementary school and hurled them across the floor.

Your father says that when we go to the next concert he is not leaving during intermission because Mahler is the second half. I told him I was sure you would want to go to that one with him.


Looking forward to seeing you at home for the Mahler.

love, Mom

Wednesday, October 07, 2009

Kids Say The Damnedest Things #437

A five year old girl with curly blonde hair and big blue eyes stands at the water fountain for a moment, drinking. She has just started kindergarten, and with it my after-school program. She stands back from the fountain, scrunches her face, and when asked what's the matter answers,
"That water tastes like vaginas."

Awesome Crazy Radical Outlandish Super-Terrific Intelligently Created Poems!

The first day of the fall semester this year I walked into a classroom and saw it covered in acrostic poems, written I assume by education students at VCU. Education programs like to make prospective teachers engage in activities that they will later give to their students. I agree with this idea, but I do not agree with acrostic poems. I have no evidence to back me up, but I suspect that writing an acrostic poem makes you dumber.

Magical
Energetic
Good helper
Active
Nuts

Oh Megan, I feel as if I know you.

Brainy
Real
Intelligent
Attitude, good
Nice to hang out with

Let's not get full of ourselves, Brian